


Adopted

by ApoplecticAtPeace



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Adoption, F/M, Family, Family Bonding, Fluff, Gen, Harry Potter Has Issues, Harry finds the family he deserves, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, So does Percy Jackson, but it's glossed over because i dont know how it works, cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21723385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApoplecticAtPeace/pseuds/ApoplecticAtPeace
Summary: Harry never thought the Dursleys hated him enough to actually get rid of him. Turns out he was wrong. Alone, far away from everything he knows, Harry Potter finally finds the family he deserves.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Paul Blofis/Sally Jackson
Comments: 103
Kudos: 695





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Just go with it. I found this story from like, five years ago, edited it and here we are. Young me didn't know how things worked, so if it sounds dumb and unrealistic... I guess you know why.

Harry stared into the purple face of Vernon Dursley, mildly terrified, and internally pleased.

"How _dare_ you try to use magic on my Dudley!” The man was hissing like a balloon, trying his best to not shout and alert the neighbours. “We will not _tolerate_ such things in this house. I warned you! We’ll be glad to be rid of you and your stupid owl!"

Vernon grabbed Harry's collar and dragged him to his room, throwing him inside and bolting the door. Harry gave a small smile, looking up from where he was lying on the floor.

"And I'll be glad to be rid of you as well," he whispered.

* * *

The truth was that when his uncle had threatened Harry with adoption Harry had been overjoyed. He knew that sometimes these kind of things didn’t work out, and he couldn’t say he wasn’t scared of the idea of being adopted by someone who hated him, but at the same time, he didn’t really think anyone could be worse than the Dursleys.

And so, he had spent his summer after Third Year so far, trying to annoy Dudley enough to make it happen. Unfortunately, Dudley didn't want to give him the satisfaction. So far, Dudley had survived nonsense words, an owl attack, and Harry leaving his textbooks lying around, although all three had made the boy almost wet himself with fear.

Finally, Harry decided to pull out the big guns, and broke his wand out of the locked cupboard-under-the-stairs using a stolen key, and pointed it straight at Dudley when the two were in the back garden. At last he succeeded in making his cousin run screaming into the house to his mummy. It was quite fun really.

And now he was going to be adopted. Away from the Dursleys. He could haave sang for joy.

Sitting cross-legged on the blankets of his bed, he cocked his head as he heard Petunia and Vernon engaged in a shouting match.

"I have had enough of that brat!" yelled Vernon, in the out-of-breath voice he tended to get when he was _really_ angry. "He is going!"

"But Vernon dear,” Petunia fluttered weakly around her husband, absolutely pathetic in the face of his rage, and yet Harry could hear scheming in her words, “we _can’t_ send him to live with his abnormal friends. They would just influence him. We need to send him to live with someone down to earth and as normal as can be."

Harry's eyes widened. They wouldn't let him stay with his friends? He knew it was an option, but as long as he could get out the house, he was sure he could see them at least a bit, sneaking around with floo powder and meeting up surreptitiously.

He relaxed a bit at that thought. Anywhere in England, and he was guaranteed to still be able to see his friends.

It was silence between the two adults for a while until Vernon said first of the fateful words:

"Let's send him as far away as possible. Another country, if possible.”

There was a long silence.

Petunia’s slimy voice continued dripping with venom and cunning.

“You know where we should send him? America."

* * *

Sally Blofis was lonely.

A month into Percy’s disappearance and all Camp had to say was he was probably on a secret quest. After a few weeks they started getting pretty worried, a month and people were actively searching and at three it was almost their number one protocol. Needless to say, after five and a half months with no sightings, Sally was more than distraught, only calmed by Paul’s comforting presence.

And so, to help her deal with the potential death of her son, Chiron dug into Dionysus’ store of drachma hidden in his outdated video games which it was easy to believe were from the time of the Ancient Greeks, and paid for Sally Blofis plus one to go to England. The plus one was going to be Paul, of course, but then he got a promotion and was going to be needed at Goode High for the next few weeks.

She tried Annabeth, but she wouldn’t stop searching. Neither would Grover or Tyson or anyone else.

She almost didn’t go.

It was only on Paul’s insistence that she relax, that she made the harrowing plane flight, which Zeus thankfully did not interrupt (unbeknownst to her because at that time he was struggling with his alter-ego Jupiter), and landed safely at Heathrow Airport whereupon she took a taxi up to London to an all-expenses paid five star hotel.

While her trip was fancy, it was not in fact enjoyable.

She went to a spa, had a private jacuzzi, lobster in bed and stole all of the little hotel-provided luxuries like the bottles of shampoo and fluffy slippers. Usually, she would never do this, however in this situation, she gave in.

She wandered about in London, took some pictures, made proper use of the lotus hotel credit card that Percy had given her five years ago which she had never touched, because, apparently, it even worked half way across the world in an out-of-the-way McDonalds that didn’t taste half as good as the good old American stock.

Eventually, she finished her sightseeing with a look around King's Cross station. Personally, it didn’t really meet her expectations (not compared to Grand Central anyway), at least, not until she saw a young boy with black hair and green eyes carrying a small suitcase caught up in the crowd, desperately trying to elbow his way through, and her heart melted.

The boy sat down heavily on a bench and put his head on his hands, looking up at the platform sign. She made her way through the crowd and sat down next to him.

"Hello, are you lost?" Sally asked gently.

"What? No," the boy said. "I just can’t get through this crowd."

"Where are you trying to go?"

"I want to catch a train."

Sally frowned. "Where are your parents."

The boy bit his lip. "They’re dead."

"What about your guardians?"

"They don’t care about me. They just want to get rid of me."

Sally's heart broke. Usually she wouldn’t take a fourteen-year-olds word for it – after all, all teenagers hate their parents, adopted or otherwise – but she could see how deep this boy's emotional wounds went from years of taking in half-bloods.

"What's your name?" She asked.

Harry hesitated. Usually - like any sane young persons - he would under no circumstances reveal his name or his position in the Dursley household, and yet this woman was so kind, so motherly...it was like everything that he'd never had.

"My name’s Harry. Harry Potter.” And if she was really a witch or wizard in disguise she would certainly react to this: “I’m trying to find Voldemort.”

She didn’t flinch. “Is that one of your friends? What does she look like?”

Harry released the tension in his shoulders with a short breath. The woman seemed to sense this change in atmosphere and was puzzled, but didn’t comment on it.

“Are you American?” Harry asked her.

She laughed. “Is my accent that obvious?”

Harry smiled as well. “Are you here on holiday?”

“Yes, just for two weeks,” she replied. “Then I’ll be returning to the good ol’ US of A.”

“What’s it like?” Harry asked, before he could stop himself. “Where you live?”

“I live in New York,” she said. “And it’s the most beautiful city in the world. I’m not rich, but me and my husband live in a little flat. It isn’t much, but I like to think it’s homey. Why do you ask?”

Harry looked down and said in a rush: “It’s just that my aunt and uncle can’t... don’t want to look after me any more, and they’re putting me up for adoption and they said they want to get me to America so I’ll be farther away...” he trailed off.

"I have a son," Sally said sadly. "But he's away at the moment. Me and Paul - that's my husband - are trying for another child, but it's just not happening. _I've_ been considering adoption..."

For a moment there, one glorious moment, Harry allowed himself to wish, to imagine that he was a character in a novel in which everything would turn out just right. She was so nice, maybe, just maybe he could go and live with her and her fiancé in New York, in their little homey apartment and they could be a family and-

“HARRY!” A loud voice bellowed across the station platform. Harry tensed up.

"Is that your uncle?" Sally asked, but before Harry could answer, a large man and a thin woman came running up.

Sally stood. "Hello, are you Harry's aunt and uncle?"

The man paused for a second. "Yes, we are, and we're very busy, thank you for looking after Harry while we were searching."

He placed a hand heavily on Harry's shoulder and pulled him bodily to his feet. Sally got up as well and was about to say something when Petunia stepped between them.

"Thank you very much, Miss, but we need to go."

She and her husband walked briskly away. Harry cast a long look back and Sally considered going after them, but that short moment of indecision was all the aunt and uncle needed to get lost in the crowd.

* * *

Over the rest of the week, Vernon hurried through the legal papers. Harry didn’t really know the process, but apparently the Dursleys had never technically been given guardianship. He guessed his uncle was using all the hoo-ha to his advantage in order to get rid of him quicker.

There must have been some pretty strange situations, because a quick google search had told him that not only would it take six months for the process to go through, but also that the person or persons adopting him would have to have a permanent residence in the UK.

At least, that was what Dudley’s computer had said before Harry had to leave to avoid being caught.

He supposed the Dursleys could have sorted out the legal stuff six months prior, but still remained the question of how a non-UK resident would be able to adopt him.

Nevertheless, there were a few applicants but they all turned away after hearing that he was 'troubled' and odd things always happened around him.

It was at the point where Vernon was going to just give up and ship him off either to an orphanage or, Harry hoped, his friends, when a call came.

The phone rang. Harry and Vernon's heads shot up at the same time, Harry hoping it wasn't someone to adopt him and Vernon was hoping the opposite.

"I'll get it," said Vernon, thundering over to the phone. "Hello, how may I help you?"

Harry didn't here the reply, but Vernon looked up in joy. "It's someone from America," he said, putting his hand over the speaker. "They want to adopt Harry."

"Great!" Petunia replied. "You better tell him about his, ahem, troubling aspects."

Vernon nodded and spoke. When the reply came, he looked elated.

"Of course. And you won't mind? Even though odd things happen around him? Well, once he ended up on the roof of his school building. Claims he didn't know how he did it. Really? Then you will? Fine. Two days? Already? Yes. Thank you."

Vernon put the phone down firmly with a huge smile on his face. He walked over to Petunia and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Harry pulled a disgusted face.

"Yes!" Cheered Vernon. "We've done it! A woman from America, New York to be exact, has called and is willing to adopt Harry! It's a miracle!"

“What about the legal stuff?” Petunia asked.

“All been sorted somehow,” Vernon said, confused, but not complaining. “I don’t know, but it is happening!”

"I'm actually going to America?" Asked Harry, horrified. "As in, America, America?"

Vernon smiled nastily. "You can bet that you are, and in a week no less!"

"But what about Hogwarts?"

He smiled wider. “You’ll just have to figure out a way around it.”

* * *

The hotel room was quiet and the sound of tapping on a keyboard was deafening. The tapping fell silent and silence was restored.

Sally leaned back in her bed, content. It had taken the whole day and it wasn’t quite ready, but the papers were all in and she had three days left of her vacation.

A few choice calls to Chiron had been all she needed. A bit of Mist, a bit of divine intervention and she had perfectly legally adopted one Harry James Potter.

Now all she had to do was place a few calls. She reached to her mobile sitting next to her bed and typed in a number. It rang only once.

"Hello," she said. "I’m calling about your ad for the adoption of Harry Potter..."


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets his new family.

Chapter Two

Harry was beyond depressed. Whoever he went with would never accept he was a wizard. They wouldn't believe him at first, and then when they realised he was telling the truth he would be locked in a padded room with no sharp objects. He had seen American movies (mostly through the crack in the doorway), and that place was a nightmare.

Meanwhile, Vernon was excited, Dudley was excited and Petunia pretended not to be excited for the coming day. It wasn’t two minutes past four o'clock in the afternoon when the doorbell rang and Vernon shouted up to Harry that she had arrived and he better be ready.

Harry took one last look around his room. He had packed Hedwig, his broom and all his wizarding equipment inside his bigger-on-the-inside trunk, and all of his muggle stuff in a smaller bag. When put together like that, it really looked quite pathetic.

Vernon came up the stairs and burst into his room. "Well, boy," he said. "Let’s not beat around the bush. She doesn’t want to stay for any longer than she has to, and we want to get rid of you. She's flying back to the US the day after tomorrow, so you better be good until then."

Harry mournfully lugged his bags out the room. By his uncle's descriptions the person who was now his guardian seemed like a strict, down-to-business, down-to-earth kind of woman. Definitely won’t get to do any magic around her.

He walked down the stairs slowly and Dudley tripped him up at the bottom. He caught himself before he fell and shot a nasty glare at him. Dudley sneered, knowing Harry wouldn’t do anything.

"Where is she?" Harry asked.

"Waiting outside," Vernon said. "Goodbye."

He placed a hand between Harry's shoulder blades and shoved him out the door. Harry turned to say something to them, but the door was already closed.

Bitterness sat heavily in his chest. They had been awful to him his whole life, but it still rankled to be thrown out so easily.

"Ready to go?"

Harry turned around and his jaw dropped. "You're the woman at the station..."

Sally laughed at his expression. "Ready to hop in the taxi? I am officially, as of now, your legal guardian."

Slightly dumbstruck, Harry hauled his two bags over. "How did you do this so fast? I literally only met you two days ago..."

She picked up one of his bags and put it in the trunk of the taxi with relative ease. "I always thought I’d end up adopting.”

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "Oh my god. I don’t even know your name..."

"Sally. Sally Blofis." She put his other bag in the trunk. "I’m staying in a hotel in London. I’ve upgraded to two beds so you’ll have somewhere to sleep."

Harry was on the verge of panicking. "But what about the plane flight? You won’t have a ticket!"

Sally laughed. "I was originally going to come here with my husband Paul, so I already have two tickets."

"What about passports? ID, papers, all of that?"

"All sorted, every bit."

Harry's jaw slackened. "How?"

Sally shrugged. "I’ve had a lot of practice."

She climbed into the taxi and beckoned Harry to get in as well. He climbed in the back and clipped himself in. Anxiety was hammering in his chest.

“You are fine with all this happening so quickly, aren’t you?” Sally asked him. “I know it’s sudden and it might be a shock getting used to but I promise you can tell me anything.”

Harry felt like crying with happiness. “No...no this is perfect. Beyond perfect. Anything is better than my aunt and uncle.”

Sally went quiet and contemplative, before saying: “Harry, it might be a bit tough, okay? We aren’t rich and... well... a lot of strange things happen in New York.”

“A lot of strange things happen in Britain too,” Harry answered, smiling to himself. “But seriously. Thank you for jumping in before someone else did. And thank you for not being put off by Vernon’s description of me.”

“How could I? I’ve seen worse.”

\-------------------

Harry raised his eyebrows at Sally’s hotel room. “Not rich huh?”

Sally smiled. “This vacation was paid in full by an old friend. He said I needed to relax.”

Harry put his bag on the floor, next to where Sally had put his other.

“Go on, have a look around,” Sally said. “It’s almost time for dinner. Let’s eat in. I’ll order room service and you can get whatever you want.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Like I said, I’m not spending a penny of my own money on this vacation. Do you want to change into something else? Maybe a bit more comfortable?”

Harry looked down, embarrassed. His oversized, dyed clothes looked out of place among the glamour. “I don’t really have anything to change into. These are just hand-me-downs from Dudley, my cousin.”

Sally looked disapproving. “That won’t do. First thing we do tomorrow is to get you new clothes. For now, it doesn’t matter anyway.”

Anxiety stirred in his chest again. Despite Sally’s assurance that she wasn’t paying herself, he felt guilty. He had a fortune locked away in a vault and here Sally thought she should buy him anything.

He ended up ordering a very boring soup from the menu, and going to bed with a jackhammering heart.

\-----------------------------------------------

The next day was just as good as the first one, and they spent it talking to each other and bonding as they shopped. By the evening they were closer than Harry had ever been with his aunt and uncle, though neither of them mentioned anything about either wizards or gods.

“Wanna eat out?” Sally asked. “There’s a lovely restaurant just a short walk away.”

“Sure,” Harry said.

She grabbed her wallet, phone and hotel room key and led Harry out. They went down a short corridor they had previously gone up to get to the room and found the lift. They descended five or six floors, and came out in a spacious lobby with a little water feature and real potted plants at every doorway.

They went out the rotating door to the street. It was still light and the sun wouldn’t go down for another few hours at least. They made their way down to the little Italian place that Sally had picked and sat down, perusing the menu.

A waiter came over. “Hello, welcome to our restaurant. Can I get you anything?”

Sally looked up. “Yes, please can I have spaghetti Bolognese, plain water and blue ice cream for desert.”

The waiter nodded as he noted it down. “Of course. And for your son?”

“Oh,” Sally said, a little surprised but defensive as she carried on speaking. “I don’t know. What would you like Harry?”

Harry stammered. “Uh...the same as you would be great, thanks.”

The waiter noted it down and hurried away.

“You’re quiet,” Sally noticed. “Are you okay?”

“Are you really okay with me being called your son?” Harry asked quietly.

“Yes, of course,” Sally answered. “I know we’ve only known each other a day or two, but if you’re okay with it, then I definitely am. You’re a nice boy Harry, I know it.”

—————————————————

The next few days were a blur to Harry. Sally packed up her stuff and threw all of Dudley’s old stuff (quite rightly) in the trash.

The plane left early in the morning, but Harry found himself relaxing as he and Sally flew first class. Harry had never flown before full-stop, and found he enjoyed the experience, although economy had seemed much more uncomfortable from what he could see.

Many hours and a pretty smooth flight later, they landed and were picked up by Paul, who had been phoned ahead by Sally and was aware of their situation.

What Harry wasn’t prepared for was Paul’s reaction.

The man had started and stared for a few seconds. “Wow,” he had said. “He looks just like-”

“I know,” said Sally, pulling Paul in for a kiss which Harry looked awkwardly away from. “This is Harry. Harry, meet Paul, my husband.”

“Hi,” Harry said awkwardly.

“Hi,” Paul replied just as awkwardly.

They awkwardly shook hands and stared at each other for three awkward seconds.

“So, Paul, where did you park?” Sally asked.

There was an audible release of breath as Paul showed them the way out of the terminal to his car. His...rather dented car.

“Why are there dents of the roof?” Harry asked, puzzled.

“Oh, that,” Paul said awkwardly. “Um...some teenagers threw some cans out a top floor window and it landed on top of my car. Hence the dents.”

They didn’t really look like can dents to Harry...more like hoof prints, but that wasn’t possible. Maybe a thestral landed on his roof and he didn’t see it. Muggles.

The car journey wasn’t too long, and they soon found themselves at a building. They went up to Sally and Paul’s place and looked about. It was smaller than the Dursley’s house, but much homier.

Sally showed Harry to the room he’d be staying in.

“This was my son’s room,” she said. “Sorry if it’s a mess. Also, if you don’t mind, can you leave all of his stuff alone. He’s been gone a while but we haven’t given up hope.”

Harry nodded and fell into bed, exhausted. He didn’t mention anything about this missing son, as he figured he had nothing to add, and would probably end up making things worse. Sally went to her room and followed soon after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember if you like the story to subscribe so you can read new parts! And I always like comments!
> 
> Bella xx


	3. Chapter Three

Sally and Paul were nice. A weak word, he knew, and yet the short time Harry had been living with them had already been one of the best week and a half away from Hogwarts he’d ever had.

Sally made blue biscuits (which Harry had never heard of before, and was confused when the Americans referred to them as 'cookies'), and Paul showed him around New York. They refused to let him go out on his own for now, but oh well...baby steps.

There were a few pictures up on the wall, but only of Sally and Paul, and not their mysterious son. Curiously enough, there were nails in the wall as though pictures had been hanging there but had been taken down.

Once, Harry brought up the subject of her son, but Sally had looked so sad that he had changed the subject and not spoken of it again.

Sometimes, Harry felt homesick. Logically, he told himself, he shouldn’t miss the Dursleys at all – and he didn’t – but somehow the homesickness kept coming back.

It was homesickness for Hogwarts, he told himself. Because he might never see it again. And his friends. Ron and Hermione and Sirius...oh god, he may never be able to communicate with any of them ever again. It wasn’t like anyone knew where he’d gone...

And that just made the homesickness come back worse than ever.

* * *

About that time, Harry was settling in well. He made the right noises when Sally made her delectable cookies, he and Paul were less awkward around each other and even started to bond, and he started to understand the concept of American words and accents.

He was reading a Charms textbook in his room on the first day he knew there was something wrong. Okay, maybe not wrong per se, but definitely different.

There was a knock at the door and Sally answered it. Harry thought it would just be a neighbour, or perhaps someone collecting for charity, and thought nothing of it.

What did surprise him was when he heard weeping.

Curious, he walked down to the kitchen, where he peeked in and saw Sally and a strange girl sitting together. The girl had her blonde head in her hands and was crying heavily.

“It’s so hard,” she was saying. “It’s been almost seven months and still there’s no sign of him. And obviously our parents have disappeared to Olympus and we can’t contact them... Chiron hasn’t seen anything. He- he could be dead for all we know!”

Sally was patting her back and comforting her. “Calm down, listen, you and Tyson and Grover and everyone else at Camp is doing everything you can. You will find him.”

Annabeth looked up and leaned into Sally. “Yeah. I will find him, and I’ll slap him so hard he’ll need new teeth and then I’ll bring him back and you can see him again.”

Sally chuckled, but it sounded weak and wobbly, like she was about to cry.

“Come on,” a voice from behind Harry said. It was Paul. “Let’s go shopping and leave Annabeth and Sally alone for a bit.”

Harry followed him soundlessly and slipped on his shoes, following Paul out the door.

“It’s Sally’s son,” Paul answered Harry’s unasked question. “Name’s Percy, Percy Jackson; that’s Sally’s maiden name. He went missing almost seven months ago and Annabeth—his girlfriend—has been searching ever since. It’s hard on them.”

“Sally’s son, not yours?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Paul said. “His dad’s side of the family is really, really complicated, and quite insane. I’ve only met his dad once, at his sixteenth birthday party, and boy is he intimidating.”

Harry nodded.

“Only,” Paul continued, “please don’t talk to Sally about this. It’s a very difficult time for her...for both of us, and any reminder is painful.”

Harry nodded again.

When the two of them returned to the apartment two hours later (on a deliberately long shopping trip), Annabeth was gone, about half the blue cookies were gone, and Sally had red, puffy eyes.

* * *

A week or two after that, Harry was busted.

He had been practising the wand movements for some of the Third Year charms, and had been not so careful. As he did the movement and thought of the incantation, a chair on the other side of the room blew up.

It wasn’t entirely Harry’s fault (though as he thought back on it, it had been), however Sally only cleared the broken bits of chair up and suggested he and Paul go on a shopping trip.

That seemed to be the go-to for when Sally wanted to meet someone in private and the two boys were around. As Harry left with Paul, he caught sight of another blonde woman with her hair pulled back in a high ponytail waiting in the kitchen. And, oh Merlin, she was wearing robes. Now he was in for it.

Surprisingly, Paul didn’t mention anything about the chair, or about the strange woman who had materialised (she must have apparated, Harry thought) in his kitchen. In fact all Paul did the entire time was speculate on what food they should have for dinner tonight and make some bad jokes about said dinner.

When they got back, Sally and the woman were sitting on the couch and talking.

“I can’t help you, he’s gone and the gods are...well...I can’t really tell mortals that aren’t dedicated to me,” the woman was saying.

Sally looked upset. “Really? Nothing?”

“I’ve told you too much as it is.”

Sally looked up and saw the two standing awkwardly by the door

“Harry,” Sally said cordially. “Please can you sit down.” Paul made flapping motions with his hands and Sally smiled slightly. “You can sit down too Paul. This is important.”

“Ah, good,” Paul said. “I’m never sure where I’m supposed to be with all this stuff.”

“It’s, ah, not quite what you think,” Sally said slowly. “Paul, Harry, meet Hecate.”

Paul’s face went slightly slack and he made a slight bowing motion with his head. “Uh, hi... My Lady... uh, Lady Hecate...”

Hecate nodded regally. “Nice to see you haven’t lost all sense of civility.”

Paul frowned. “I’ve never met you before...”

“I was talking about mortals in general.”

Paul bit his lip while nodding, shifting from one foot to another.

Harry bit his lip. “Uh, listen, Hecate... you’re a witch, right? I haven’t done anything illegal...have I? at least nothing illegal in America?”

Hecate shrugged. “How would I know? Also I’m not a witch, I’m a sorceress. Far stronger word. I’ve just been explaining to Mrs Blofis about the wizarding world and everything. I’ve cleared your residential move with MACUSA, and also your Ministry of Magic. Dumbledore was a bit upset, but that old bag deserves to be put down, frankly, with all the hypocrite leaking out of him. Any questions?”

“What did you say about Professor Dumbledore?”

Hecate rolled her eyes. “Oh, so he’s played the wise old mentor card on you, has he? Didn’t work on Tom Riddle when he turned his back on him. If he had been more open then at this moment there wouldn’t be a part of his soul in your forehead.”

“What!!!”

“Oh, oops, did I not mention that?” Hecate smiled like she knew all the secrets and wouldn’t tell anyone. “Did Dumbledore forget to tell you that Tom Riddle split his soul into parts and put them in objects and one of them is you? He’s always hiding something.”

Paul looked confused. “Okay...can someone tell me what she’s talking about and also what god or goddess Harry is the son of, because this is getting weird.”

Now Harry was confused. “God or goddess?”

“Oh yes, also, I’m a goddess and I created witches and wizards,” Hecate said conversationally. “Now I suggest you go get your wand, broom and textbooks and show your new parents before the man’s eyes fall out his head.”

Harry nodded hesitantly, understanding absolutely nothing except ‘fetch your wand’ and went back to his room, bringing his trunk full of equipment to the three people sat on the couch. He opened it.

“It’s...bigger on the inside...” Paul said in amazement.

Sally laughed fondly. “So you can deal with gods and goddesses, vampire cheerleaders and the entirety of Manhattan asleep, but bigger-on-the-inside trunks is where you draw the line?”

“Actually, it’s an undetectable extension charm,” Harry said. “I’m really a wizard, who attends a wizarding school in Scotland called Hogwarts and these are my supplies.”

“I know,” Sally said. “And Hecate has brought your letter.”

“What?” Paul asked.

“Cast a spell for him Harry,” Sally said.

Harry bit his lip and cast a levitating charm, making the couch rise about a meter into the air, before coming back down. At once, with his wand in his hand, he could feel Hecate’s presence.

It was overpowering.

Suddenly, it didn’t seem so far-fetched that she could be a goddess. Harry could feel her magic bubbling under the surface, perfectly controlled, despite it’s sheer mass. It was like a sun or a flaming torch, calm and radiant and yet like a storm waiting to break.

She could do anything with a wave of her hand. She could cast a hundred unforgivables simultaneously without a wand, without speaking, without even looking at her targets, without even a thought.

Harry had never been drunk (except for that time after a quidditch match with the Weasley’s smuggled firewhisky – though he’d only taken enough sips to be tipsy) but he imagined this is what it would be like.

Then the magic receded and he snapped back to himself, looking into her eyes that seemed to be reflecting tiny flames in the pupils. Then she blinked and it was gone, leaving Harry’s mind feeling sluggish and weak.

“Apologies,” Hecate said. “I forgot how susceptible you mortal wizards are to my magical presence.”

The only thing Harry could say was: “Wow, you really are a goddess.”

Hecate looked sharply over at Sally. “You haven’t told him?”

“Maybe one day soon,” Sally said calmly as Harry shook the mugginess out his skull. “Anyway, Harry, I’ve already sent a letter back to Hogwarts to confirm you’re going, and Hecate has given us a Portkey which takes us between Diagon Alley and this apartment. However I absolutely refuse to let you go without us, so it only responds to my touch, okay?”

Harry stared in shock. “You’re letting me go to Hogwarts? Really?”

“Of course,” Sally said, as if it were obvious. “I know you’re famous and all that, but really, I can see how much you love it. It wouldn’t do any good to separate you from your friends.”

Harry smiled so wide it hurt and he hugged her hard. “Thank you so much, mom-”

He froze, waiting for Sally to tell him not to call her mom, but she looked delighted instead.

“You consider me your mom?” She asked.

Harry nodded sheepishly.

Sally beamed. “Thank you so much Harry! It’s an honour!”

And for once in his life, Harry didn’t think it was just because of his fame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be in the new year 2020! Find me on tumblr at WasALostBoy .


	4. Chapter Four

Annabeth came again to their apartment once more in the coming weeks. And yes, it really was their apartment now that Harry had been completely accepted into the family. He was sure there was still something going on with Sally’s missing son, but kept his promise to Paul and said nothing.

Paul taught him English and some maths while Harry was there, and he realised how behind the muggles he was in some subjects – especially maths. Three to four years behind the muggle average standard in fact. Paul had been so shocked he’d taken matters into his own hands and bought a whole load of textbooks.

For once, Harry hadn’t been horrified by the prospect of work.

Hermione would be so proud.

In fact, it was while he was working away at figuring out some basic equations late at night that he heard the landline ring. Sally and Paul – whom he officially now called mom and dad with his increasingly persistent American accent that had been developing – were in their room.

Harry had cast silencing charms on the door a week ago, so he was blissfully ignorant in what exactly they were doing.

He was almost finished on the exercise, so ignored it and let it ring to voice mail. Paul monotonously recited “ _This is Paul and Sally Blofis née Jackson. We are unable to get to the phone at the moment. Please leave a message,”_ on the recording.

What Harry didn’t expect was the message that came up. “ _Mom,_ ” the person on the line said. Harry‘s head shot up and he listened intently as the boy on the line spoke quickly.

“ _Hey, I’m alive,”_ he said. “ _Hera put me to sleep for a while, and then she took my memory and..._ ” There was a short pause. “ _Anyway, I’m okay. I’m sorry. I’m on a quest—... I’ll make it home. I promise. Love you._ ”

The phone beeped as he hung up.

Harry debated what to do. He should probably tell Sally that her ‘lost’ son had just called her, but he didn’t want to interrupt her and Paul again (that had been the most embarrassing moment of his life so far).

So instead he turned back to his work and tried to figure out what _x_ equals. He pulled a face as he tested it and it didn’t work, and decided instead to go to sleep and figure it out in the morning.

But as he switched off the light and put his glasses on the bedside table, he found he couldn’t sleep. Something was nagging at him. He bit his lip and went over the boy’s message on the phone. _Hera put him to sleep_? Who was Hera? He was sure he recognised the name, and Hecate’s as well.

And Hecate said she was a goddess. And Paul asked whether he was a god or goddess’s son. And Hecate called Paul a mortal. And Paul didn’t know where he was with ‘all this stuff’. What stuff? And what was Sally going to ‘one day’ tell him?

Damn it, now he knew what Sally must have felt when she didn’t know he could do magic. Except that issue was resolved rather quickly.

Too many questions.

He shifted restlessly once more, and failing in his endeavour to fall asleep instead got up and went into the kitchen where Paul had left his laptop. He had said Harry was allowed on it as long as he didn’t touch anything work-related and cleared out his internet history afterwards.

Harry didn’t really clock why the second was so important (he didn’t spend that much time with ordinary teenagers okay?), but followed it nonetheless.

Regardless, Harry opened up Google and searched up Hera. He chewed his lip thoughtfully as about seven websites reeled off a whole lot of information about Hera, Queen of the Greek gods. She lived on Olympus, apparently, and was married to Zeus, her brother.

Harry pulled a face and opened up a new tab, searching for Hecate. Not as many websites came up, but the ones there cited her as the Ancient Greek goddess of magic, witchcraft and crossroads, her symbol being flaming torches.

Harry sat back and wondered. He looked at the time. It was almost 1:00 in the morning. Cursing, he deleted his search history and switched off the laptop, running this new information around his head.

Although he was far from satisfied with the answers to his questions, his tiredness won out and he collapsed into a sleep full of gods and magic.

* * *

The next morning Harry chewed on toast and read a potions textbook as Sally and Paul came downstairs looking radiant and happy.

“Mornin’,” Harry said with his mouth full.

“Good morning,” Sally replied.

They chatted for a bit about meaningless stuff, and Harry told them a bit about the Hogwarts ever-changing floor plan and the little tricks to get around, as well as some of their little adventures he and Ron and Hermione had had, such as when they found the ghost of an old charms professor in an abandoned corridor of the castle.

Regardless, after Sally and Paul laughed to dizziness when he told them how happy Hermione had been after discussing (with the ghost of an old Ravenclaw professor ghost) how the principles of arithmancy and charms could be theoretically combined that she had actually burst into song, he decided it was time to bring it up.

“Oh, mom,” he said casually. “Did you see there’s a voice mail for you?”

“Oh, can’t be anything important,” Sally said smiling.

Harry shrugged. “Who knows. Could be from anyone.”

They finished the rest of breakfast in relative calmness, and then split up. Paul reached for his laptop and raised his eyebrow at Harry when he saw the cleared search history. Harry blushed slightly even though he was only doing research, and scampered up to his room to finish the equations.

In the quiet, he heard the voice mail being played, and a stifled sob as Sally listened to what must be her son’s voice.

Harry finished his last equation and was lured out by the smell of cookies. Sally’s eyes were puffy.

“Who was that on the voice mail?” Harry asked cautiously.

Sally looked like she was going to cry again. “Just- just the past coming back to haunt me...”

Harry didn’t say anything else, but caught sight of the notebook by the phone with the boy’s words copied out word-for-word and with _Hera_ underlined and circled several times.

* * *

Harry needed a theory. Something to keep himself from driving himself insane from the nagging questions, but each theory was more bizarre than the last.

Eventually, he settled on secret agents as the most logical, and coolest, theory.

Sally’s son – Percy (a weirdly English name, he noted absently) – must be a secret agent, and that was why he disappeared. Annabeth was his girlfriend and didn’t know where he’d gone. And that must also be the reason Sally was so sad. She thought he was dead or captured.

Hera and Hecate must be secret code. And Olympus must be their base. So when he said Hera put him to sleep, he must be saying that he was kidnapped by the organisation he was fighting against.

Furthermore Hecate mentioned MACUSA – which as far as Harry knew stood for the Magical Congress of the United States of America – but apparently didn’t know the law. So, the organisation she works for must be part of the American magical government, and she must lead it, based on her power.

From there though, Harry didn’t have a clue. Besides, it was just his speculation, it wasn’t actually true – it couldn’t be.

Could it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet. Man it was a shock when I realised I hadn't updated in a month... January goes so fast...
> 
> I'll get the next one up in under a week. Keep nagging me!
> 
> Bella xx


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally happening!

“Uh, mom?”

“Yes Harry?”

“Umm, it’s almost school time and I need textbooks and new robes... I’ve grown quite a bit.”

Sally slammed down the book she was reading. “Oh, how could I forget? Harry, get your stuff together, we’re going to Diagon Alley.”

“...now?”

“Yes. Now. Get your wand or we won’t be able to get in, I’ll go get the equipment list and the portkey and text Paul that we’re going out. He’ll be back from the store in two minutes so he better hurry if he wants to come.”

Harry sort of just stood there awkwardly. “...it’s seven-thirty in the morning?”

“Yes, go get prepared!”

Harry was decidedly _un_ prepared for the motherly rush that was Sally Blofis. He grabbed his wand and stuck it in the back pocket of his jeans while Sally packed backpacks full of Tupperware boxes of cookies and water bottles, snacks and anything else they may need.

Paul arrived back two minutes later, and inelegantly dealt with the motherly storm, ending up looking dishevelled and dubious about the portkey.

“On the count of three,” Sally said. “One, two-“

She pressed the portkey before she reached three and the three of them were sucked through what felt like a tiny pipe and spat out in the backyard of the Leaky Cauldron, where it was noon. (Harry had forgotten that London was four hours ahead of New York.)

Harry felt queasy, Paul threw up in a bin and Sally stepped out with pink cheeks, a smile and looking like she’d just had the greatest time on a rollercoaster.

“That was fun,” she said.

Paul’s noises of retching strongly argued otherwise.

“Come along then,” she said. “Okay, so Harry, can you let us into Diagon Alley?”

Paul got his head up just long enough to see the wall shift away, and gaped like a fish. Harry smiled as he saw the wizarding street in all it’s glory once more. He didn’t realise until now that he had been braced to never see it again. How glad he was that it wasn’t so.

Sally took Harry by one hand and Paul by the other, briskly marching them down the street to Gringotts bank.

Harry kept his head down to avoid attention, and even though lots of people look notice of the American couple, most viewed them as a curiosity that was certainly not as good as the British way of doing things.

“Cheery,” Paul commented as he read the Gringotts inscription.

Sally marched them by, right up to the head goblin. He looked up and sneered. “What do you want Americans?”

Harry looked up. “I would like to access my vault please.”

The head goblin looked astounded. “By Merlin, I didn’t recognise you Harry Potter. You’ve let your hair grow long. Follow me, of course.”

The goblin hopped of his stool and waddled down a corridor, beckoning the three to follow. Harry touched his hair self-consciously. He hadn’t noticed it had grown long enough to cover his scar and a good deal of his glasses and neck.

“We can have it cut if you want,” Sally said perceptively.

“No...” Harry replied. “Actually, I like it. It’s nice to not be noticed for once.”

“Why would he be noticed?” Paul asked, confused again.

“Oh, he’s very famous in the British wizarding world,” Sally said, gliding after the goblin in long, easy strides.

Paul raised his eyebrows at Harry. “Him? No way?”

Harry bristled with over-exaggerated pride and hurt. “Not everyone has what it takes to be famous,” he said airily, following her.

Paul let out a short laugh and followed him.

* * *

The Gringotts experience was hellish as always, though Sally seemed to once again inexplicably enjoy the ride. Harry and Paul were both almost sick.

“Sorry we can’t afford to help with your school fees,” Sally said to Harry as they left Gringotts. “We can buy you new robes though.”

“No, you already do too much,” Harry said. “Besides, that money was put aside by my parents – my original parents – for things like schoolbooks and robes. There’s no point in you spending your savings for this.”

Sally fell silent, but her disagreement was almost palpable.

Nevertheless, they made it through Flourish and Blotts with less than a problem, stopped at the Magical Menagerie to get Hedwig some owl pellets (she had been accepted wholeheartedly by Sally, significantly less so by Paul), and proceeded to _Madame Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions_.

As Harry stood on a stool being measured for clothes, the attendant (whose name was Rosie as far as Harry could tell) chatted away happily.

“-so that’s why red dress robes are in this year!” She was saying. “But I mean, it wouldn’t suit you, so you’re better off with something else. Black tie dress robes are always in, you could try those.”

“Sorry, dress robes?” Sally asked.

Rosie looked up. “Oh, of course. Sorry, I forgot you were a muggle for a second. Look here.” She pointed to a rack of decorated robes. “All Hogwarts students need dress robes this year, along with their uniform. I suggest house colours, so you could try-”

“Wait, why do I need them?” Harry asked.

“For the coming year of course!” Rosie said. “It’s a surprise! And it’s gonna be big!”

She grabbed a frilly red and gold robe that was far too elaborate to be any kind of passable and held it up to Harry. “Do you think it’ll fit?” She mused, inspecting it. “Can only have the best for Harry Potter!”

“Excuse me,” Sally interrupted, “But do you mind if we pick out the dress robes? It’s just that it feels like a family sort of thing to do.”

Rosie smiled happily and walked away, cloth and needles floating after her as she walked away off find a Hogwarts school uniform in Harry’s size.

Sally perused the rack of elaborate and crazy dress robes before shaking her head.

“You wizards are crazy,” she muttered. “Harry, is there anything there that seems even vaguely wearable?”

“I dunno, I guess that one on the left is alright...”

“Harry! You’ll be absolutely humiliated!”

Harry shrugged. “They’re just robes.”

Sally shook her head sadly. “You don’t get it, do you? You obviously need these dress robes because Hogwarts is hosting a prom.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Oh...”

“Yeah. With dancing, and dates and probably people from other schools... I refuse to let you go in wearing any one of those.”

Harry nodded, relieved at the close call he’d just had.

Sally pushed the rack to the side and looked at a few more, less crazy designs, before deciding that even those were not okay. She pushed that aside too, and started going through the plain black dress robes with crisp white shirts and bow ties. Eventually she settled for a black dress robe with green accents to bring out his eyes.

“But green is Slytherin’s colour!” Harry argued. “I’ll be supporting the enemy!”

Nowadays Paul’s expression was almost perpetually confused.

Sally sighed. “But it looks amazing on you.”

Harry stubbornly refused.

Sally sighed and mournfully placed down the beautiful robes and chose instead robes accented in red.

“Decent.You’ll get a date in no time,” she said proudly. “Ready to go home?”

They left Madame Malkins with his robes and walked back to the Leaky Cauldron. Just as they were about to make the horrible journey back, Harry saw the flash of a camera. A reporter.

But then the portkey kicked in and took them back to New York, where it was the middle of the night and Harry fell into bed, dizzy from the time difference, not caring about the picture of him and his family that was sure to be in the Daily Prophet come morning.

* * *

The next morning dawned bright and early. Sally was in a good mood and Paul was cooking pancakes while Harry read aloud from an arithmancy textbook he had bought.

The doorbell rang, followed by a loud and persistent knocking.

“I’ll get it,” Harry said, gesturing for his parents to stay sitting.

The loud knocking continued and Harry grumbled under his breath at the person’s impatience.

He opened the door. There in front of him was a boy with green eyes and black hair, about seventeen years of age, carrying a duffel bag and fidgeting restlessly.

“Mom-” the boy stopped when he saw Harry. “What?”

Harry’s heart raced. He had some idea of who this was. “Who are you?”

The boy frowned. “My name is Percy Jackson, and I’m looking for my mom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pls give feedback, however minute!
> 
> Lots of love!


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: I may have said it before, but don't read too much into this. I'm sure there are plotholes galore, and it's definitely executed inelegantly, but this is all for fun, hey!

_“My name is Percy Jackson, and I’m looking for my mom.”_

* * *

“Harry, who is it?” Sally called, coming to the door. She froze when she saw Percy, and tears sprang to her eyes. “Percy!!”

“Mom!!” Percy shouted, dropping his bag on the floor and running to hug her. Paul came barging out the kitchen and ran to him as well, joining the hug.

Harry stood awkwardly to one side.

Sally broke away. “Oh gods, Percy are you alright? I heard from Chiron about the war... The giants and the romans and... Tartarus...”

“It was a lot,” Percy said. “But I had Annabeth with me.”

“Yeah,” Annabeth agreed, appearing in the doorway. “And even though I didn’t slap him like a promised, I did get him home safe.”

Percy gave a lopsided smile. “She did judo flip me though, which is the next best thing.”

He looked at her lovingly and she looked at him lovingly back. “Seaweed Brain.”

“Wise Girl.”

Sally pulled them both in and closed the door behind them as they held hands tightly. Then Percy noticed Harry.

“Who’s this?”

Sally smiled. “This is Harry Potter. He’s English. We adopted him.”

“Hi,” Harry said.

“Looks like you’ve lost your accent,” Percy said. “Nice to meet you. I’m Percy, and this is my girlfriend Annabeth Chase.”

Annabeth was scrutinising him with terrifying grey eyes. Damn, she kinda looked like Draco Malfoy when he was grumpy with that look. Except it was mixed with a raw intelligence and steel that seemed unique to her. (Harry was fairly certain Malfoy would be unable to summon that look if he tried his hardest).

“How long have you lived here?” She asked.

“Just over three months,” Harry answered. “But I’m going back to school in a week or so.”

Annabeth looked surprised. “I visited Sally at least three times in the past months. How did I not see you?”

“I tried to keep out of it while you were...talking,” Harry answered.

Annabeth’s eyes went soft and she adopted a fond look. “Thanks,” she said.

“Oh,” Sally remembered. “And you know those witch and wizard followers of Hecate?”

Annabeth nodded. “I’ll tell you later,” she whispered to Percy, who looked confused.

“Harry is actually a famous wizard from England, and goes to a prestigious magic school called Hogwarts.”

Annabeth looked surprised. “Harry...Potter? Oh, I’m sure Hazel mentioned you in passing once. Technically I don’t think she was supposed to tell me.”

“Percy, Annabeth, come into the kitchen,” Sally said. “You need to tell me everything that happened while you were gone.”

“Yeah,” Percy agreed. “Most of it was Zeus’s fault anyway. And Hera. Basically, the gods messed up and a power-hungry Roman almost destroyed Camp.”

Harry was confused, and it must’ve shown because Annabeth raised her eyebrows at him.

“Er, Sally,” Annabeth said. “Does Harry know about the gods and everything?”

Sally looked sheepish. “I held off telling him. In case you didn’t come back.”

Annabeth sighed and smiled supportingly at her, and then at Harry. “I’ll try and make this explanation short then. I’ve done it often enough. Basically, the Greek gods were immortal, right-”

To cut a long story short, Harry still didn’t quite believe Annabeth’s explanation. That was, until Percy made some water levitate, turned a pen into a sword and Annabeth put on a cap that made her invisible.

And Harry hadn’t even explained to Percy about the wizarding world yet.

But so far, they got along like a house on fire.

* * *

Percy was good at hiding it, and Annabeth was even better, but both of them were emotionally scarred.

Losing each other, drowning, Arachne and the Mark of Athena, Tartarus and a battle for the survival of the world will do that to you.

Occasionally when no one was looking Percy would slump, his face would sag and he’d lean into Annabeth for support and comfort. Annabeth always supplied both and more.

Even rarer were the times Annabeth’s mask cracked and fear and despair leaked through. Her mask always sealed up quickly, but Percy always saw and put his arm around her.

They were lucky in a way. They went through literal hell together, and still came out in one piece. A rather fragile piece, given, but one piece nonetheless. Percy felt sorry for Nico who had gone through it alone, and young as he was. However, the coma he put himself in in the jug did have some side effects. One of which was memory loss.

Percy disliked amnesia enormously, but this time would easily prefer it to keeping his memories of Tartarus. Not knowing about the past was terrible. Knowing and having to live with the pain every day was worse.

Harry was intuitive naturally, and Sally and Paul knew them both too well to be fooled, but none of them said anything, for which Percy was thankful.

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Harry said. “And you can have your room back.”

“Thanks,” Percy said. “We appreciate it.”

“Also,” Annabeth said. “Fair warning. We may get nightmares, so be prepared to be woken up.”

Some horrible, devilish part of Percy was laughing like a madman. May get nightmares? At this stage it was certain. They had been getting nightmares every night since they had escaped, and it didn’t look like it was letting up any time soon.

They spent the day talking and explaining to each other, ate blue cookies, blue soda and blue pasta, then spent a while explaining why everything was blue. To cap the day off, they played Monopoly and Annabeth had everyone bankrupt in ten minutes. Even Percy, and they were playing on the same team.

Harry took a blanket and bedded down on the couch.

Meanwhile, Percy and Annabeth curled up together in bed, looking out the window at the dark sky with the stars blocked out by the city smoke and light pollution.

“Bob says hello,” Annabeth whispered, tears coming to her eyes. She bit her lip and looked away. A tear dripped onto her cheek as above her, Percy silently shared her grief.


	7. Chapter Seven

Harry was woken twice by screams emanating from the bedroom. Both times Sally rushed from her bedroom to comfort them and only glanced at Harry, making gentle shushing and staying motions with her hand.

Both times Harry uneasily turned over and tried to sleep, with little to no luck.

* * *

In the morning Harry went to breakfast to see Percy and Annabeth sitting down and embracing.

“How long have you been awake?”

Annabeth shrugged. “A while.”

Harry, by the bags under the pair’s eyes and the amount of coffee on the table, took that to mean ‘longer than should be possible to still be functioning.’

“So, when does your magic school start?” Percy asked. “Same time as ours?”

“Five days,” Harry answered. “It’s gonna be weird, I haven’t seen any of my friends in ages.”

Annabeth’s relaxed expression disappeared. “That’s nice,” she said woodenly.

Percy put his hand over hers. “That’s great Harry.”

“Um, did I say something wrong?”

“No,” Annabeth said shortly. “Don’t worry.’

“But, you know, we didn’t actually tell you where we were,” Percy said. “And, if you’re staying, you deserve to know.”

“Percy, we did get a voicemail from you,” Harry replied. “Paul looked up the number and it was from Alaska.”

“I didn’t spend the entire time up there if that’s what you’re wondering...”

Harry shook his head. What he was really wondering about was all the screaming and crying he heard last night.

“Sorry about last night,” Percy said. “I guess we should tell you why.”

“But basically there was a war,” Annabeth said. “The gods against the giants. Me and Percy had some bad luck and we fell into Tartarus together. Literal hell. We got out, but we still get nightmares of the place. Also, one of our close friends...didn’t quite make it. He sacrificed himself for us.”

Harry nodded but wisely kept quiet.

“Percy, Annabeth!” Sally swept into the kitchen and sat down heavily, head in hands. When she looked up Harry could see the bags under her eyes were just as bad as theirs.

“Sally!” Annabeth said. “Sorry about last night, you must be exhausted.”

“No, it’s not that,” Sally replied, “It’s Goode High, Percy’s school. They say they refuse to let Percy back after he missed so much of last year without any valid excuse, even with Paul’s insistence. They did accept Annabeth, what with her track record but-”

“The whole reason I wanted to go to Goode was to be with Percy,” Annabeth finished. “What about my present school?”

“They said they’d let you back, but not Percy.”

Annabeth growled. “I need to graduate! Percy so do you.”

“I called Chiron to see if he’ll tutor you,” Sally told her. “He said he was busy, but guess what! A girl called Reyna offered you a place at a school in New Rome!”

Harry was no expert, but Sally’s tone seemed forced.

“New Rome?” Annabeth asked incredulously. “Even after we bombed it?”

‘ _An accident_ ,’ Percy mouthed to Harry and Paul.

“Yes! They want to incorporate some Greeks into the city, and who better than two of the Seven?”

“That’s awesome!” Percy said, but his voice lacked enthusiasm.

“What’s wrong?” Sally asked.

“I don’t want to finish school just yet,” Percy said, tapping on the table idly. “I kinda just want to stay in New York. Maybe live like mortal for a bit. Me and Annabeth could just… chill, I guess.”

Annabeth nodded in agreement. “Travelling around the world was… an experience, to say the least, but now we kinda wanna be normal. Maybe stay with you guys for a bit?”

Sally looked absolutely delighted.

“Of course!” she said. “Stay as long as you like! It will be nice to have you around full time again. It’s been too long.”

“And when the semester ends, Harry can come back and we can be one whole family again,” Paul said.

Harry smiled. He was content with that.

“And we can all drop you off at the train station,” Sally said. “Five days. It’s getting quite close now. You have been owling your friends, right?”

“I’m sorry, owling?” Annabeth asked.

“Send a message by owl. Tied to its foot.”

“Oh, that’s why there’s an owl in my bedroom!” Percy exclaimed.

Harry gave him an odd look. “Why did you think I have an owl?”

Percy shrugged. “I dunno. Sacrifices?”

“No!” Harry exclaimed. “That’s Hedwig!”

“It’s name is Hedwig?” Percy asked incredulously. “In a world of owl-related names you chose that?”

“Yeah,” Harry responded defensively.

“Not, I dunno, Hooter? Moony? Feathers? None of those?”

Harry shook his head.

“What about Percy. You could’ve called it Percy Jackson!”

“Harry didn’t even know you when he got it,” Annabeth pointed out.

“And she’s a ‘she’, not an ‘it’,” Harry added.

Percy nodded his head slowly as if he understood. “What if you called her ‘Perci’ with an ‘i’?”

“No!” Harry said loudly, chuckling.

“How does it get across the Atlantic?” Paul asked.

There was a short silence.

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “She must do though, because I’m gettig replies from my friends…”

“You sent your owl out without knowing if it can cross the ocean?” Percy replied incredulously.

Harry stuttered wordlessly. He hadn’t thought about it.

“Magic,” he eventually said, unconvincingly.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Close to the end now. If anyone is desperate for a continuation after the final chapter, drop me some suggestions! Thank you so much for everyone's support and lovely comments!

Harry was bleary-eyed and exhausted when he was shaken awake at five in the morning by Sally. He sat up in bed, watching as Sally went to probably save Annabeth from cooking judging by the smell, and reached for his glasses.

He wandered about in his room for a few minutes, aimlessly bumping into furniture and stumbling about. Idly he wondered whether he was a Sim, then dismissed the thought as he instead pondered why on earth he had walked into the bathroom when he had no purpose being there.

By the time he had gathered enough wits to stumble to the kitchen and down a coffee, Paul was agitatedly trying to get Sally to eat faster. Percy was giving pointers.

“If you breath through your nose in between chews it goes down faster,” he was saying. “And if you need to hold conversation then just move the food to the back of your mouth and talk with the front.”

Annabeth wrinkled her nose. “Or you could just swallow and then speak?”

“Yeah, but that’s boring. And slow.”

Sally shook her head fondly. “Well Percy, you’ve certainly mastered the art of speed-eating.”

Percy shrugged. “It’s a gift,” he said, spitting bits of burnt pancake onto the table.

“I don’t think you’ve quite mastered it yet,” Annabeth said, eating - at a normal pace mind you - her own pancake. “You okay Harry?”

“Coffee,” he mumbled, walking over to the pot. “Coffee.”

“You know teenagers aren’t supposed to be drinking coffee,” Percy told him disapprovingly. “It’s bad for them or something.”

Annabeth shrugged, handing over the pot. “Eh. I remember I was drinking coffee since I was eight. Thalia would buy it for me to keep me awake when we needed to be on guard. Luke hated it, said that I didn’t need any more reason to be hyper.”

Percy nodded, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Yeah, when she’s hyper she starts doing calculations out loud and spouting facts and algorithms and theories that would make Einstein drool. Since then when it happens I just give her six notepads and play music really loud.”

“It really doesn’t help the caffeine hangovers I get,” she added. “And what am I supposed to do with six notepads full of facts interspersed with theories about the universe?”

“What am I supposed to do with a brain full of facts interspersed with theories about the universe?” Percy asked, chugging down orange juice like a pro. “And anyway, my brain’s already full of Annabeth, pizza and gods. But mostly Annabeth.”

“Awww.”

Paul growled irritatedly. “Guys. Stop being adorable. Eat faster. Harry will miss his train.”

“Says you,” Percy retorted. “Your apron is pink, frilly and says ‘ _No matter how much I cook and clean, I can never make anything shine as much as my wife_ ’. Talk about sappy.”

“It’s less romantic when you know that mom got it for him,” Harry pointed out.

Sally, Paul and Annabeth laughed but Percy seemed caught between that or a frown.

‘ _Oh Hades,_ ’ Harry thought. ‘ _I haven’t referred to Sally as mom before. Maybe he’ll be mad. I’m competition... Oh-’_

“I mean,” Harry quickly amended. “Sally is an awesome cook, but uh, Paul, um…” He chuckled nervously.

Percy suddenly smiled. “Yeah. Our mom is the best.”

Tiny tears sprung to Harry’s eyes, and he coughed to hide it. On the other side of the table, Sally was doing the same thing to hide her own tears from Harry and Percy.

“All finished?” she said.

“Yeah,” Harry said thickly. He cleared his throat. “I’ll go get changed.”

* * *

“Damn,” Percy said as he saw Harry packing his wizard robes, leaning on the doorframe. “I wish I had some of those. It’s like a costume party.”

Harry laughed nervously, despite Percy’s joking tone. Percy struck him as the kind of person who could quite easily kill him.

“You really love my mom, don’t you?” Percy said, coming to sit next to Harry, on the bed.

Harry nodded, continuing to fold robes. “I never knew my real parents. And the less said about my aunt and uncle, who used to look after me, the better.”

Percy nodded, leaning back. “I get you. I didn’t know my dad for twelve years. This asshole Gabe was married to my mom. He used to hit her. And me. But I didn’t know he hit her.”

“What happened?” Harry asked, empathising strongly with Percy’s story.

“Me and my mom turned him to stone,” he said, “using the severed head of Medusa.”

“What?” Harry asked, not really questioning, just in awe at how this was Percy’s life. “If you could do the same thing for my aunt and uncle, that would be grand.”

Percy laughed. “Yeah, I have a feeling you had a similar experience to me, huh.”

Harry smiled a smile that was more of a grimace. “My uncle used to keep me locked up in the cupboard under the stairs. I did all the chores. I never even celebrated a birthday before I went to Hogwarts.”

Percy nodded. “That’s awful. I guess we’ve both had pretty shitty lives up to a point,” he said.

Then he smiled, a smile so wide and genuine that Harry was shocked for a moment.

“It’s pretty cool that we have the same mom now, huh?”

* * *

At King’s Cross Station, which had taken about half an hour to find from where they had taken the portkey to the Leaky Cauldron, Harry stopped outside to wave goodbye.

“What are you doing?” Paul asked. “We’re coming in.”

Harry’s heart swelled as he realised he’d finally have a family to say goodbye to on the platform, not just two people who’d dump him in the car park.

“Well, come on then,” he said, through the lump in his throat.

“It’s just like you British,” Percy said as they walked through the station, “to have a Nine-and-Three-Quarters. Bit arbitrary. Is there a Nine-and-One-Quarter? Or a Platform Nine-and-a-Half?”

“It’s not a British thing,” Harry said, laying his hand on the wall that led to the platform. “It’s a wizard thing. Believe that you’ll go through, and you will.”

He pushed a hand through it in demonstration.

Paul shook his head. “I have nothing left that I can’t believe in,” he said, and stepped through without hesitation, pushing Harry’s trolley.

The rest of them stood dumbfounded. No-one expected Paul to be the first through.

“Fantastic!” Percy said, exchanging a look with Annabeth, and they ran through together.

“Ready, mum?” Harry said, holding out his hand.

Sally nodded, taking his hand, and pushed through with him.


	9. Chapter Nine, The Final Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm well aware this says the final chapter, but there are ten listed overall... stick with me ;)

On platform, the clock read ten to eleven. They were ten minuted early. Harry couldn’t remember being ten minutes early to the station in his life.

He looked around at the people in robes pushing around, and easily spotted Hermione waiting on the platform. It was no surprise she was early.

“Hermione!” he called.

They ran to each other, and hugged.

“It’s been so long!” Hermione exclaimed. “How’s America? Have you been studying? Can you believe we’re in Fourth Year?”

“It’s crazy!” Harry said. “And it’s been awesome.”

“You must be Hermione,” Annabeth said, holding out a hand to shake Hermione’s.

“And you must be Annabeth,” Hermione replied. “Harry’s told me all about you. You’re the smartest person on the planet!”

Annabeth blushed, and Percy smothered a laugh. “Thanks,” Annabeth stuttered out in reply, bright red.

“Wow, you must be Percy!” Hermione continued, shaking Percy’s hand too. “Harry never said how similar you two looked. You could be brothers for real!”

“I wish,” Percy said. “And you and Annabeth could be sisters. Harry wasn’t lying when he said you were the brightest witch of the age.”

Both Harry and Hermione blushed.

“I should go,” Hermione said. “I’ll find a carriage while you say goodbye. If you see Ron, tell him to join me.”

Hermione ambled off, hugging her own parents once more, before boarding the train.

Harry turned to Sally and Paul and Percy and Annabeth. The lump in his throat was back.

“Goodbye,” he said weakly. “It’s been so awesome.”

Sally launched forwards and wrapped Harry up in a hug. “It really has,” she said.

At that, the remaining three joined in, piling on top of the boy.

Finally, they pulled away, and Harry sniffled, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

Waving the whole time, he went to find Hermione.


	10. Chapter Nine-And-Three-Quarters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now here's the final chapter!

“Who was that on the platform, mate?” Ron asked as the train chugged away.

“Who was who?” Harry replied.

“That guy, who looked like you. I tell you, Malfoy almost had a heart attack when he called the guy ‘Potter’ and a complete stranger turned around.”

Harry laughed. “I’m sure Percy put him in his place.”

“I think they were both just confused, to be honest.”

The three of them laughed, together as they always were.

“Say, Harry, are you going to have a haircut?” Hermione asked.

Harry fingered his long hair absent-mindedly.

“Do you know,” he said. “I don’t think I will. If you wouldn’t mind lending me some hairbands?”

“Any time,” Hermione offered.

* * *

Later on that very same evening, Harry found a note tucked into his suitcase.

It said: ‘ _Harry, if you ever need anything, if you need help, or someone to cheer you on at your Quidditch game, anything like that, even if you just get bored, don’t hesitate to call us up. I know Annabeth and I are dying to get a look at the Wizarding World, and we want to travel for a bit anyway. You’re part of the family now, and all of us miss you; me, Annabeth, mom and Paul. We can’t wait until your next break. What do you say, little brother?  
Percy.’_

On his bed, hidden behind heavy drapes, Harry cried in happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your lovely comments! I was never planning on writing a sequel, but with all the fantastic ideas and encouragement people have been giving, I might have no choice. Lots of love from me, Bella.

**Author's Note:**

> Pls don't point out the flaw in the adoption system... Young Me thought that it just happened, like in books and Wattpad stories. Since then of course I now know that it is a months long legal process involving checks and all sorts of stuff which I don't really know about. I vaguely said something about pulling strings, and Mist, but honestly just go with it.
> 
> All new chapters are written, so just keep nagging me!
> 
> Bella.


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